


Black Hair

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dramatic Constance, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, This is just sappy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Constance's hair has turned black on the most important day of her life. Whatever shall she do?!
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Constance von Nuvelle
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Black Hair

The shriek that echoed through the monastery could be heard for miles around, echoing off the stone walls and surrounding tree trunks. High pitched, dismayed, and distinctly belonging to a Miss Constance von Nuvelle.

What was not heard were the tired reassurances of her family attempting to get her off the proverbial ledge, the third in as many days.

Constance stared into her mirror, fists shaking as she glanced over her reflection.

Black. Her hair had turned _black_. The purple underneath had remained its glorious, shining shade. But the shimmering gold her wife-to-be loved so well had turned blacker than black!

It was a disaster. Her wedding dress had not yet even arrived, her hair had miraculously changed color during her bath, and her stress had kept her from eating all day. 

At the very least, the sun was not shining. Either the goddess had listened to Mercedes’s prayers that their wedding day would have no sun, or they had chosen the best month to be wed in. 

She could only pray Mercedes was having a far superior day.

“What are you talking about? It looks great!” Balthus rejoiced. She was going to get a headache 

The Ashen Wolves crowded Constance’s borrowed room, sitting on top of her haphazardly made bed. Yuri busied himself with his makeup for the day while Hapi perused earrings Constance could wear.

Balthus, however, perched on the end of her bed, making silly comments that normally she would not have minded. And to make matters worse, he seemed to be the only one not yet feeling the cold bite of the Ethereal Moon.  
Even Faerghus native Yuri seemed to feel the chill.

“Are you an _imbecile_? My hairstyle was perfectly curated to look magnificent with the soft shade of gold my hair naturally is!” Constance replied, voice raising without her consent.

Why couldn’t they understand it? Everything had to be perfect! It wasn’t for herself, though she deserved nothing less than the best.  
It was for Mercedes.

Mercedes deserved perfection. She deserved a beautiful, blissful day that proved to her Constance could give her anything and everything she wanted for the rest of her life. She had to prove she was a worthy wife upon which Mercedes could stake her entire future.

“Alright, Constance, you really need to eat. You’re getting irritated, and that’s never fun for anyone.” Yuri, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. Yet her stomach churned at the very thought.  
The nerves were getting to her more than she would care to admit. 

She clutched at her stomach, stumbling into her chair by the vanity. She took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. Perhaps if she thought of it like a magical formula?

It shattered every time she thought of Mercedes at the altar, looking as ethereal as an angel and four times as beautiful.  
She couldn’t think of her wedding to the most incredible woman to ever life as a logical occasion, it seemed.

“Well, if your hair is bugging you that much, I can cut it for ya.” Balthus interjected.

It seemed as if the room had been placed under an ice spell. Three heads swiveled to stare at Balthus, who had deigned to dress up for his sister’s wedding. Though how much of his appearance was Yuri and Annette’s interference, it was difficult to say.

It was so laughable that any other day and Constance would have burst out cackling at the very notion. But, given that there was no other option…  
“Very well. It cannot look any worse than its current state. Do not completely shave my head and all will be well.”

Constance opened her drawer and took out her ornate golden scissors. She held them out to Balthus who took them, gently. More gentleness than she had expected from him.

Yuri and Hapi shared a tentative, worried look, before Hapi shrugged.

“Alright...Hapi, go check on the status of her dress. I’ll head down to the kitchens and get our lovely thornbush here something to eat. When I get back,” Yuri turned as he spoke, addressing Constance directly. “I’ll do your makeup.”

Without hesitating for protests or agreements, Yuri left the room. When Constance peered around him, she could see snow starting to fall outside. She felt a smile work its way onto her lips, despite the stress of the morning so far.

Snow never failed to remind her of her Mercie. 

Hapi strode to the door as well, setting a pair of obsidian earrings on the vanity as she passed. “Try not to butcher B, okay Coco?” She warned. Another gust of chill wind as the door opened and she, too, was gone.

She adjusted in her seat, looking at herself in the mirror as Balthus stood up, scissors in hand. She couldn’t deny her nerves, but to her mind, nothing he could do could possibly be worse than the disastrous state of her current hair.

“You seem real nervous today, Constance.” Balthus commented. Clearly a distraction from the first _snip_ she heard.

“Well of course I am! It is normal for a bride, even one such as I, to be nervous on her wedding day!” Her tone wasn’t nearly as convincing as she would have liked.  
The snips were becoming rhythmic, an even pace that almost soothed her. Almost.  
“No, it goes deeper than that. What’s really bothering you?”

Balthus’s moments of perception never failed to take her off guard.

“I...I am worried I will fail to be enough for her. That she will realize marrying a noble with no house and problems with something as simple as sunlight was a mistake.” Constance’s voice was quiet. She folded her hands in her lap, worrying for a moment sunlight had begun to stream into the room.

The snow outside only fell harder.

“Are you crazy? You’re Constance von Nuvelle! She’s lucky to have you! And she knows it, too!”   
_Snip, snip, snip._  
Constance couldn’t help herself. “What do you mean?”

Balthus’s rhythm paused. When she glanced at him in the mirror, he had a fond smile on his face.  
“Do you remember the day you had your first kiss with her? Told me all about it in frankly too much detail?”  
“Of course. I remember it as though it were yesterday.”  
“Figured as much. Well what you didn’t know was that later that day, Byleth had assigned me to give her training. I was going to ask her about you. If she hurt you, she would have paid for it.”

Balthus bent down to meet Constance’s eyes. There was an overwhelming amount of warmth in them, his face soft and eased.  
“I didn’t even have to ask her. She was raving about it from the minute she saw me, saying how perfect you were, how much she loved you. She told me she was certain she was gonna marry you.”

He seemed to understand that it was the right time to stop looking at her and continue with her haircut. He must have seen the tears welling in her eyes.

“Would you have really attacked her had she broken my heart?” Constance’s voice trembled with unshed tears.  
“Of course! You’re our Coco, you think I woulda let her get away with that?”

It was a moment of silence as Constance let the revelation settle in, Balthus’s rhythm resuming. She tried in vain to blink away her tears, though she supposed, she hadn’t yet put on her makeup.

“So? Whaddya think?” Balthus intruded upon her thoughts. He bent down beside her, still gazing in the mirror.

Constance scrubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her pajamas, finally looking in the mirror. She could barely restrain her gasp, hands flying to her mouth.

Hair fell around her jaw, a few strands tucked behind her ears. The strands curled just slightly inwards, giving a lift to her entire style. She could clearly see the purple undertones.

“Balthus, this is...this is incredible! It looks exquisite!” She turned to meet Balthus’s soft eyes. “Wherever did you learn to style like this?”

“Little Hilda Goneril always used to ask me to cut her hair when I came over, and Holst woulda killed me if I made her cry. I got good.” Balthus shrugged, yet still glimmered with pride.

Constance allowed herself a moment of weakness. She flung her arms around Balthus’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, he held her in kind; a gentle, comforting hold.

“Thank you for salvaging my disaster, Balthus. I cannot adequately express my gratitude!”  
“Just have a happy wedding day, that’s enough for me.”  
Constance pulled back, looking quizzically into his face.

“Will you not ask for a reward?”  
“Nah, not today. Figure it’s the least I can do for your wedding.”

Constance’s heart swelled. How far they had come since their younger days of constant bickering. Though many would argue they hadn’t changed all that much.

“I think I am ready to marry the woman of my dreams.” Constance resolved.  
“Not in your nightgown, you’re not!”

For all that the morning had already offered, Constance could only think to laugh.

~~~~~~~~~

Constance could do this. In her dress of deep purple and black, she stood outside the cathedral doors. She could hear music beginning to be played, her signal to enter.

Yuri stood before the doors, waiting for her. She could think of no one else to walk her down the aisle, into her new, peaceful life.

“You ready, Constance?” He asked. For once, there was no teasing in his tone. No mocking when he held out his arm for her to take.

Constance nodded, holding her bouquet in one hand. Lavender. For Mercedes.

“I am.”

She took Yuri’s arm. At the same moment, the doors opened. Constance felt all the breath in her lungs slip away immediately.

The cathedral was gorgeous. Red roses and lavender intermingling in bouquets as far as the eye could see, decorations in purple and red accentuating the gorgeous lighting in the room. The pile of rubble at the back had been cleared away, making way for Seteth to perform the ceremony.

And there, in front of him, was her. Mercedes.

She was a vision, in soft vermilion and diamonds, grown out hair braided behind her back. And the shock on her face when she set eyes on Constance was but the crown jewel.

Constance couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto her lips.

Perhaps black hair wasn’t a travesty after all. Not in the grand scheme of things.  
Perhaps what was more important was that Constance would end the night as a married woman, Mercedes stroking her hair.

Constance had to hold back from sprinting down the aisle.

Nothing else mattered.


End file.
